FALLING SLOWLY ||Complete||

Ghosts

Pain blazing through nudges him to think of arrows and blades - of steel sinking into flesh, of blood searing as it pours out. His eyes open to a vision of a flickering candle - feeble against the wind but holding on nevertheless. For one maddeningly long moment he wonders if it had all been a dream. A dream of another life - of finding her - a dream that he is awaken from too soon, too cruelly back into the reality of a cold throne and a court full of vipers. An excruciating exhale burns its way down his windpipe and he feels disoriented. It would not be the first time his deepest desire had manifested itself into a dream. His heart wrenches painfully, disappointment clawing at him. Their farewells are always unsaid, or burdened with so much that words could not bear. And his breath comes out short and laboured.

A soft hand brushes back his hair, by reflex he catches it, eyes darting and locking with an all too familiar pair of mild brown.

“Soo - yah?” He sounds rusty and the effort of forming words stretches his throat painfully.

There is a wild yearning in his eyes, a look of a man hanging on to a last thread, lost, afraid and a little heart breaking. There is none of the gentle touch of So in his grip sinking into her flesh, but the intense longing of Gwangjong. Some part of him - still disoriented calls her by an old name.

“Soo - yah?”

Ha Jin bends over him, a palm against his cheek, until the heat of her breath washes over him and their foreheads touch.

“I’m here -love,” she says softly. The endearment he often uses slips from her lips effortlessly. His exhale shudders his entire frame, fear swims in his eyes - urgent hands cup her face, lips seeking hers.

“Don’t go -” he mutters against her lips, a sigh, a prayer - too late to be spoken aloud. He thinks it is the poison that had conjured her vision - if it is - he thinks there is a little he could thank Demok for. “Stay - it won’t be long.” His voice rasps and his eyes do not waver.

The ghosts that haunt him are from a time unknown to her, when he had all but lived an isolated life - long long years after her parting. It was only once before she had heard him speak such, and then her uncle’s brew of poison was running through his veins.

“I’m here…”

“They would take you away - they always do.” His feverish words sound resigned. “They took you - you took Seol… how could you even think I wouldn’t - I couldn’t protect her?” His voice breaks and her tears mix up with his trickling down his face. “I had to order her to call me father - once - I wanted to hear it once…”

His words brings back the blurred memory of a soft weight in her arms, little wisps of hair and a very pink face. It breaks her heart all over again to think he died a lonely man - a possible victim to plots of those who shared his blood - and to think how she continue to find new ways to ruin him each time their paths crossed.

“I’m sorry -” her own voice breaks, barely a breath against his ear before she buries herself against his throat where pulse throbs in waves. I was selfish. I was weak. I could have loved a little more - I could have trusted a little more. I could have - and I regretted it every moment…every breath. That she leaves unsaid, instead a harsh breath leaves her lips. “Forgive me - So…”

He stirs at the sound of his name - a hand rests atop hers on his cheek, a touch so gentle that makes her raise her head.

“Ha Jin - ah?” His eyes are clear in the flickering light and he touches his injured shoulder tentatively. “What - where are we?”

“Safe,” she tells him. “For now. It was a flesh wound.” She adds the last part for his benefit watching his grudging fingers probe at the bandages and with an admonishing hand she holds back his. “Don’t.”